


Without Shadow

by Rivenroad



Series: Tales of the Shadowless [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Amaurot (Final Fantasy XIV), Amaurotine Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Amaurotines (Final Fantasy XIV), Ascians (Final Fantasy XIV), Dreams and Nightmares, F/M, Family, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Post-Sundering (Final Fantasy XIV), Pre-Sundering (Final Fantasy XIV), Psychological Horror, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27937567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivenroad/pseuds/Rivenroad
Summary: A young girl finds herself suffering through disturbances in her sleep. The echo of a grand piano and a sultry voice entices her into dreams beyond anything she's ever experienced prior - and with them, comes a flood of memories from lives once lived...
Relationships: Igeyorhm & Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Series: Tales of the Shadowless [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045797
Kudos: 1





	Without Shadow

A dark mist surrounded her, its grip like ice tugging at her throat as she fought to speak. Her blue eyes, locked onto a crimson masked man dressed in an array of white and various shades of violet. His hands, delicate and gentle, would glide across the keys of a grand piano carved from the finest hardwood she had ever seen. Mesmerizing, enrapturing, and captivating was the way in which he strung every note together. Not once did he pause, not for more than a moment, at least…

But with each note, she found her throat tightening. A breath escaped her, and though the room was so dimly lit. She could see the fog which plumed before her face,though only briefly, as it disappeared just as quickly as it came. One sharp note and the pianist's fingers slid from the edges of the keys, hands landing on his lap with a soft thud.

"And so it seems… That the Martyr has made her choice…"

Thus her slumber was broken. Her eyes drew open and her lashes frantically fluttered. The youth's chest felt tight, just as it did only moments before… But it was just a dream, wasn't it? The same one she had been having for so long, every night. Enough so that the masked man became the object of all her curiosity. Who was he? Why did he refer to her as "The Martyr" - or was he referring to her at all?

There was always the same imagery. A grand piano set against an even grander library with a polished marble floor. With each time she was transported to that particular scene, she felt enamored by it. Or rather, she did until that black haze began to creep its way in, interrupting the intricate web of notes that the musician played for her. Growing thick, intense, and seemingly intent on smothering her. 

The questions plagued her - why? What could this man want from her? Was he real, out there somewhere using magic to get inside of her head? Or was it an illusion crafted by an over-imaginative brain? Would she ever find out, or would she be driven mad by her myriad of unsolved inquiries? Who, what, why? 

All she could think of was the way his lips twisted into a smile after speaking. As if he were overjoyed by her presence, as if he had been awaiting her a great deal of time. The deep, guttural sound of his voice… It was erotic, laced with desire, but at the same time it seemed dead. Emotionless, cold, and lacking in all other respects. She could recall the way his words echoed through the empty hall, burying itself inside of her brain. 

“... Ige… yorh… m… “

Something seemed to tug at the sleeve of the robe that she wore; a garment undecorated and made from simple cloth, loosely wrapped around her slender frame. Was something there? Was somebody in the room with her, watching her? The eerie sensation she felt was enough to make her upset and she could feel her stomach churning. The need to vomit suddenly arose, but after shifting her weight and turning onto her side, the sensation had left as suddenly as it initially came. 

Deep, ragged breaths were taken, and she rolled to her previous position on her back. Fighting with herself, she kept her eyes tightly shut, as if she were afraid of making eye contact with some unknown being. She lay in fear of the unknown, but despite it all, her left eye would occasionally twitch, longing for a glimpse of whatever company she might have. The longer she lay like this, the closer she came to once again falling into slumber. Once ragged breathing was now slow, soft, and somewhat peaceful. Despite the uninviting darkness which enveloped her bedroom, she found herself losing the battle against her own consciousness. She slips away, invited back into the world of her dreams by the very same song that her host played only moments prior.

Each note echoed, ringing throughout the room as her faded vision cleared itself, allowing her once more to see the man robed in white. Once again, she could feel the melody capturing her breath and tugging at her wrists. It was an invisible entity, taking hold and filling her chest with an anxious warmth, a desire that once again brought her bare feet to tread carefully across the polished marble floor. Until this moment, she hadn't noticed the temperature of the floor. Like a sheet of tempered ice, and with a shine so brilliant she could see her own reflection as it stared back at her. A young woman with loose strands of indigo hair, coiling around on another as if it were once a part of a now unwound braid. Her eyes were a cold blue like the surface of water come winter, and skin so pale it might have been crafted from porcelain.

“Come to me, indulge your curiosities. Reveal your heart to me, so that you… May become whole…”

The voice was different than the last time he spoke up to her prior. It maintained the same guttural and raw sound to it, but this time with a hint of underlying menace. It was intoxicating, and with each word he spoke her feet took one step forward. It was as if she had lost control of her body, her subconscious hunger driving her forward. As she approached, her bare feet gliding across the marble cold as ice, she could make out the curve of the speaker's jaw. Of what she could see immediately, he seemed to be rather handsome. With her youthful curiosity, she felt a pang of longing to see what lay beneath that mask of a bloody red. 

Slender hands outstretched towards him as a thin lipped smile beckoned her closer, and though her limbs continued their stride of their own will, she realised that she wouldn't stop if she had the choice. This man who plagued her dreams for so long, night after night, tempting her with fanciful melodies and a baritone voice. As if he wanted her, desired her, and for so long she only ever wanted to know why. Now, he was within her grasp, drawing nearer and nearer, his body unmoving and seemingly frozen in time. No more music, no more words exchanged, only a cold which brushed over bare skin like the gentle caress of a feather. Shivers rolled down her spine but she continued onwards, even as the sensation of a chilled dagger seemed to jab at her. The intensity of the sensation caused her once beating heart to slow, pulse dropping until her vision began to fade.

The room was shrouded once more in a dark mist, enveloping everything within. The man rose from his seat, a hand outstretched and palm turned upwards. Fingertips gently grazed the girl's chin, caressing it with a tender care. His flesh was uncannily warm against her iced skin. It felt so real, as if her skin was being kissed by a delicate flame...

Then, there was nothing.


End file.
